


Payback and a Microphone

by MizErie



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Asphyxiation, Backstage, Banter, Bloodplay, Bondage, Bottom Gerard Way, Breathplay, Canon, Dom Frank Iero, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominance, Edgeplay, Inanimate Objects, Light Bondage, M/M, Microphone Cable, Revenge Era, Rough Sex, Sub Gerard Way, Top Frank Iero, microphone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-20 12:22:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizErie/pseuds/MizErie
Summary: Payback's a bitch. And Frank is hell-bent on making sure Gerard remembers that from now on.Author's Note: This fic was inspired by the picture of Gerard in Spin magazine, July 2003 (seen below). It's not only one of my favorite pictures of him, but it's one of my favorite photo shoot stories too.





	Payback and a Microphone

**Author's Note:**

> I give my deepest gratitude and my neverending love to my amazing beta, Amy, for her help on this! 
> 
> As with a lot of kinks I write about, some of the activities in this fic are considered edge play and are extremely dangerous. Please play responsibly! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with My Chemical Romance or the guys that make up the band. No part of this is true; it is purely a fictional story. Any part of this story that resembles real life is only coincidental. No parts of this story may be reproduced or used without permission.

Frank bounds across the stage with a silent Pansy and slings an arm around Gerard’s waist. The frontman throws another slapdash kiss at the feisty guitarist, who collapses to the stage floor in a fit of enthusiasm. Frank thrashes about, kicking his legs violently as he begins strumming the strings of his guitar again like it’s his life force, and the crowd of screaming fans hardly notices when he rips the plug of his microphone cord out of its socket. He doesn’t bother hooking it back up; they’re on the last song of the playlist.

As the last chords reverberate through the venue, Frank drapes the black cable around his neck with the microphone dangling against his stomach. Gerard closes the show, and Frank mumbles some bullshit to an idle stage hand that he'll have the mic back before the next show and slips off stage.

The show’s carnality is still beating through the guitarist’s body. He finds a cozy, dark recess and waits for his bandmates to file off the stage, waiting for Gerard in particular. Like always, the frontman is the last one to sashay his ass to their designated dressing room.

Frank watches the effeminate swing of Gerard’s hips for a moment before winding the cable into manageable loops, wrapping the loose ends around his hands and pulling the cord tight. Gerard doesn’t notice his guitarist in the shadows as he passes by him, his head hung down. Frank’s attention is glued to Gerard’s back, and he concentrates on controlling his breathing as he abandons his niche and sneaks up behind his prey.

Frank hurls the cable over the singer’s head and hooks it around Gerard’s chest and arms. Gerard jerks his head up, going motionless. Frank spins him around and assaults the frontman’s mouth with a kiss more vehement and perverse than their usual onstage mischief.

Gerard tries to deepen the contact still standing in the middle of the hall, but the guitarist breaks away and herds them into a vacant dressing room, jostling the singer’s body as Frank slams the door and fumbles for a light switch without letting go of the cord. A fluorescent glow flickers to life and reveals a smirk pulling at the corners of Gerard’s mouth.

“I didn’t think you had the balls to do it,” Gerard says, his voice already half wrecked from the past hour’s abuse.

The guitarist narrows his eyes, but he slacks up on the cable slightly.

“You should know my balls pretty well. They were crammed down your throat the day before yesterday.”

Gerard darts his gaze down to the black lines digging into Frank’s inked skin and then doubles back up to his face.

“Besides,” Frank continues, “what did you think was going to happen after that shit you pulled out there?”

Gerard’s eyes widen with feigned bewilderment.

“What shit?”

Frank wraps the cable around his palms another turn, reigning the frontman’s body in close again.

“You know exactly what shit. Rutting your fucking hard dick up against my ass and then looping your mic around my damn wrist when I reached back for you. I warned you payback’s a bitch, but you kept on keeping on.”

Gerard’s lips draw into a full smirk.

“But it got me what I wanted.”

“Oh, sugar, you have _no_ idea what you’re about to get,” the guitarist taunts as he releases his grasp on the cable, the microphone tumbling to the scantily carpeted floor and landing with a heavy thud.

They keep constant eye contact while Frank slides his hands under the lapels of Gerard’s dark jacket and pushes it off the singer’s shoulders to crumple in the floor with the mic. Using a fistful of Gerard’s red tie, the guitarist pulls Gerard to him until they are breathing the same air, and their lips almost touch. Gerard whines urgently, and Frank turns his face away with a fiendish giggle.

“I don’t think so,” he murmurs as he looks back at the singer’s black rimmed eyes. “I’m going to make you suffer.”

A strangled sound escapes the back of Gerard’s throat, and Frank strips off the frontman’s tie and sweat soaked shirt, ripping a button off in his haste. With Gerard’s pallid torso exposed, the guitarist ghosts his fingers down the bare flesh. Just as he reaches the edge of the singer’s pants, Gerard grabs Frank’s hand and brings it up to his face. He examines the broken skin on the guitarist’s fingertips from the repeated dragging over metal strings.

Watching Frank’s face, the singer nips at the wounds with his teeth until they bleed again and then sucks them into his mouth, nursing hungrily until his tongue is coated thick with a metallic bittersweetness. The guitarist’s red-shadowed eyes flutter shut for a single second before extricating his fingers from Gerard’s mouth with a wet smack and scoops up the discarded microphone. He twists the cord taut around the singer’s wrists multiple times, binding them together and leaving behind crimson fingerprints on Gerard’s pale skin.

Frank keeps a solid grip on the coiled wiring as he disconnects the microphone from the loose end and then looks up at Gerard’s slack-jawed expression. With the mic still in hand, Frank uses his middle finger to paint his blood over the frontman’s lips. Gerard tries to lick the bleeding skin, but the guitarist withdraws his hand just out of reach.

“Kiss me, Frankie,” the singer whimpers.

Frank leans in so close he can feel the fervent pounding of Gerard’s heart, but just as Gerard tips forward to initiate the desired contact, Frank crams the mic into the frontman’s mouth.

“You mind holding that for me for a minute?” he asks with an obscene glint in his eyes. Gerard tries to mumble around the mouthful. “What? I can’t understand you with that dick in your mouth.”

Gerard raises his hands up as far as Frank will allow and flips him off with both hands. The guitarist lands a quick, teasing kiss to the end of the microphone just to rile Gerard up a little more. Then he drops to his knees, yanking the frontman’s pants down with him. Gerard has to hook his bound arms behind the guitarist’s head to avoid toppling over as Frank sweeps the singer’s feet from under him to remove his boots and the last of his clothing.

With the singer now stark naked, Frank stands back to admire him. Gerard’s long, black hair is tousled around his makeup streaked face. Not as ghostly as his face and neck, his chest has sparse hair that leads down to his fleshy abdomen and ample hips. In front of Gerard’s dark pubis stands his deep red and leaking cock.

Frank peels off his own stage clothes, intentionally bending and stretching and caressing his body as he goes. Gerard emits breathy groans around the mic with every movement of the guitarist. Wearing only his ink, Frank skims by Gerard, making sure his rigid dick slides across the frontman’s thigh.

Gerard makes a high pitched sound in his throat, so the guitarist moves things along. He settles Gerard in the floor face up and dislodges his microphone from the singer’s mouth. Once Frank is sat on the frontman’s chest with his ass toward Gerard’s face, the guitarist opens his hand that is palming a condom and small tube of lube.

Working quickly as to not draw Gerard’s attention — which he’d be hard pressed to do since Gerard seems to be enjoying teasing Frank’s asshole with a couple of fingertips—Frank unrolls the condom over the backend of the microphone and smears on a little lube. He lifts one of Gerard’s thighs for access to his entrance, and, without warning, Frank fills Gerard’s ass with the mic handle.

The singer gasps sharply at the abrupt penetration of cold metal into him but arches his back in pleasure. Frank withdraws it a few inches, and as he prepares to slide it back in, Gerard lifts his hips. Frank watches intently as the mic is swallowed up by the frontman’s hole.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” the guitarist breathes.

Keeping a few fingers on the mic to hold it in, Frank straddles Gerard’s head, letting his dick hang in the singer’s face. Gerard moans obscenely.

“Bend your legs up.”

Gerard does as instructed, but Frank needn’t give any other demands. This is far from the first time the singer and the guitarist have been tangled up like this. Frank leans over Gerard, the frontman’s cock twitching against the guitarist’s inked skin, and Gerard settles his ankles over Frank’s shoulders blades.

The guitarist tongues at Gerard’s slit for a moment before he licks a wide stripe down the full length of the singer’s thick cock as he begins pumping the mic into his ass. Gerard groans roughly, and he spreads his bound hands over Frank’s ass checks to steady the guitarist as Gerard’s abdominal muscles begin flexing and extending instinctively, arching his spine off the floor.

Every so often, Frank feels Gerard mouthing at his sack, so he angles the microphone just enough to brush over the frontman’s prostate. It does what Frank intends, causing Gerard’s breath to hitch and stopping him from trying to draw the guitarist’s nuts into his mouth.

“God damn it, Frankie,” Gerard forces out between pants. “You realize you have to–ungh–use that mic–ahh–again, don’t you?”

“And? I’m not going to break it.”

Frank guides it past the singer’s sweet spot again, and Gerard nearly crushes the guitarist’s face down into his crotch with the weighty constricting of his legs.

“I’m betting seeing it onstage from now on will remind you to be more careful of what you wish for.”

Frank does it once more, and Gerard encircles his arms around Frank’s hips, his bound hands scratching at the skin covering the guitarist’s spine, and tugs on them. When the guitarist doesn’t relent, he clinches his entire body so tense, his forehead rests against Frank’s taint.

Gerard sinks helplessly into the floor, eyes hardly closed and gasping with parted lips, as the guitarist lets the mic slip out of him finally. Frank drags the frontman up off the floor by the cable tied around his wrists, not allowing him to catch his breath, and slams the singer’s back against the wall.

With his free hand, the guitarist smears a copious amount of lube on his dick. He barely lines things up and then rams his full length into the frontman’s hole, picking up a quick tempo without pause. Gerard arches off the wall with a groan, and his head lolls backwards, exposing his neck. Frank tips forward and attaches his mouth to the singer’s salty skin just above the pulse point.

It takes the guitarist only a minute to progress from sucking on the flesh to scoring it with his teeth to outright biting down on Gerard’s neck. The singer lets out a primal sound and pulls towards his twitching cock with his bound hands, but Frank pins them to his chest with his fingers still roughly clutching the cable.

Gerard grinds his hips forward, detaching the guitarist’s mouth, so Frank relocates his lips to the frontman’s, swallowing Gerard’s rapid breaths. He licks a bit of his blood off the singer’s lips teasingly before sealing the kiss. Gerard hungrily tries to dominate the contact, and Frank allows it while he snakes his free hand around the singer’s throat.

With light but consistent force, the guitarist presses upwards across the frontman’s neck. Gerard suddenly breaks the kiss, his breathing raspy. The pair make eye contact, and a hint of panic ripples across the singer’s hazel irises. Frank slows his thrusting into him.

“I got you, Gee,” Frank murmurs, and the frontman yields to the sensation. The guitarist hangs on the impeded breaths of the singer as he regards Gerard’s visage, the glazing over of his eyes and then the faint creep of blue tinging his scarlet stained skin under the white makeup. A heartbeat later, a smothered moan escapes Gerard’s throat. The sound elicits an atypic utterance of debauchery from Frank and halts his fucking into Gerard’s hole.

As oxygen deprivation weighs the frontman down, his arms go lax. Frank lightens the pressure on Gerard’s neck. The singer draws a less muddled breath, and the guitarist wraps their hands around Gerard’s engorged dick. Gerard drunkenly pulls at himself with Frank’s help.

Unable to support them both any longer, the guitarist’s legs buckle, and Frank struggles in vain to control the rapid descent of their bodies. He lands on his knees with bone-jarring force, Gerard coming to rest on his back with his ass between the guitarist’s thighs.

The need to cum supersedes the throbbing in his knees, and Frank wraps Gerard’s thighs around his waist, hauling the frontman’s body into his lap. He fills the singer’s hole with his full length again. The angle of penetration causes the head of Frank’s cock to slam into Gerard’s prostate with each inward thrust.

Gerard grips his dick in an effort to jack off, but it’s all he can do to hold onto himself. Each pass of Frank’s cock over the singer’s sweet spot forces a breathy yelp out of his throat. Suddenly Gerard cries out with his utterly sex-wrecked voice as his climax engulfs him in excruciating ecstasy. Cum shoots up the frontman’s stomach almost to his breastbone, and the aftershocks send convulsions down his spine and out through his extremities.

Watching the power of Gerard’s orgasm decimate the singer only spurs Frank on more. He gets up on his knees and crouches over Gerard’s spent body, his tattooed arms pinning the frontman’s thighs between the two of them. The guitarist drives his dick into Gerard with everything he has left to give, causing the singer’s form to lurch with the unsteady rhythm.

Gerard hangs his tied wrists behind Frank’s head and pulls him down into a fiery kiss. Their mouths are torn apart when the guitarist gasps harshly and releases deep inside the frontman.

Frank goes limp on top of Gerard, and Gerard runs his fingers through Frank’s sweaty hair, allowing the guitarist to ride it out.

“I think we need to make our way to the bus before we get left behind,” Frank mumbles against Gerard’s skin, not even trying to climb up.

Gerard laughs softly and then hides a kiss on the top of Frank’s head.

“I’m pretty sure they’ve noticed were missing by now. I don’t think anyone’s leaving without us.”

Frank slowly picks himself up off the singer’s body with a groan. He reaches down to help hoist Gerard up, stopping when he sees the mic cord still binding the frontman’s wrists together. A smirk curls Frank’s lips, and he wraps his fingers around the coiled cable one last time, making eye contact with Gerard.

“I told you payback’s a bitch. Maybe next time you’ll listen to me.”

“Yeah, I might think twice before teasing you into a frenzy again,” Gerard says with a hoarse voice. “Or I might just know what I’m getting myself into.”

Careful of any potential wounds to Gerard’s flesh, Frank uncoils the mic cable and tosses it aside for a minute. They both toss their stage clothes back on with no concern of what the others will think of their disheveled appearances. Frank slings the microphone cord over his shoulder and picks up his mic, peeling off the condom and tossing it in a nearby wastebasket.

Arms draped lowly around each other’s waist, the pair walk out of the venue. As they approach the bus, Frank slows down, and Gerard turns to face him, the singer’s face creased with worry. The guitarist chews on his lower lip before pressing his mouth against Gerard’s in a loving kiss. Gerard brushes his long fingers over Frank’s jaw and neck while his other hand draws him in closer. For a moment they stand in the moonlight just looking at each other.

“Do you want to sleep in my bunk tonight?” the frontman asks.

Frank nods yes. They begrudgingly separate their bodies and climb onto the bus.

“Did you two get lost?” Ray jokes, but Bob pipes up before either can answer back.

“Why do you have your mic?”

Gerard and Frank exchange amused glances.

“No reason,” Frank says with a shrug of a shoulder as the two head for Gerard’s bunk for some much needed sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write a fic based on that picture of Gerard. The mic cable wrapped around his wrist gives me all sorts of naughty thoughts! 
> 
> As I said before, some of the stuff Frank does in this is considered edge play. Before attempting any sort of kink play, I beg you to do thorough research first and always use caution. There is no way to eliminate all risks associated with erotic asphyxiation; serious injury or death can occur every time a person's breathing is obstructed, partially or completely. Always play responsibility! Remember, RACK (or SSC if you prefer) is essential! 
> 
> Hopefully you guys liked my latest fantasy! If so, please leave me some love in comment or kudos form! Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Hugs and love to all!  
> xo Miz


End file.
